


glass flowers

by passionred (berryargento)



Category: BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Hanahaki Disease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 15:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14834801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berryargento/pseuds/passionred
Summary: 'If only she had it the same'; she thought as she surrendered her hope away in a breath.





	glass flowers

_This is the third time today._

Sayo murmured to her own as she put down her favorite blue guitar back to its stand. As much as she didn’t want to leave the particular riffs she wanted to learn, she must do so because her body signaled her to stop. That night was same like any other night, an hour of guitar practice before sleep. It might get longer if Sayo needed to learn new verses, in which she was bothered to leave her guitar. She eventually hesitated when she’s about to zip the case close, until her throat started to itch again as a second warning.

Her eyes darted back to the wooden floor of her room again, seeing the mess she had created just now. Sayo huffed slightly when she crouched down, collecting the familiar trash to her palms.

 _Today’s flower petals are white._ —again, she stared with forlorn light on her eyes. It lasted for some minutes before she proceeded to pick up remnants of petals on the floor. If she remember correctly, when she coughed yesterday’s afternoon, it was blue. A week ago, perhaps it was red; Sayo didn’t pay attention to it nor did she want to recount how many frequency it happened. She dragged her feet to seek trash bin by the edge of the room, putting the petals away from sight and trying to acknowledge it never existed.

The night is late—she gazed by the translucent curtain which bounded her to the outside world. The moon was no longer there, and the street is quiet. Not much lighting available from nearby homes aside of street’s tall, glaring lamplight. Sayo heaved another sigh as she went back to seek her bed. Maybe it would be better if she sleep early than reminiscing over pointless stuff, or so she thought.

If only sleep can make her forget; of her pain, of her heartache, of _everything_ that she let to happen and of _feelings_ that she can’t redo.

* * *

 

Sayo might be the one usually pumped to do practice session with Roselia, but not now, not anymore ever since the ‘special case’ happened to her. She would love to skip band-related stuff eternally if that’s an available option, though sadly, there’s no exit door open for her. She should come to practice, she should pretend nothing happened, she should be the usual ‘Hikawa Sayo’—she should come early and encouraged her band mates to be better.

Sayo walked away from her school right after the last bell rang. Rinko wanted to join her earlier, but then she was suddenly called by the member of faculty. The black-haired keyboardist told the guitarist to go first and she will join later.

No matter how slow she tried to walk, her feet would bring her to the studio area in mere ten minutes – there’s not much choice to go roundabout, and she got no place to stop by on the way. There’s part of her mind thinking whether it’s better to wait for Rinko instead, since the silence is killing—she couldn’t help but to implore more about her condition and how she should behave today.

“Ah, hello, Sayo-chan,” the studio owner greeted right at the moment she came. Sayo nodded a bit and force a fraction of smile. “Studio 5, right? Yukina-chan is already there.”

 _Again._ The name was enough to make her take a step back, visibly flinched and let her mouth open slightly from its composed idleness. A grip to her case sling tightened as she tried to find any way to give a coherent reply and finally made her way to the said studio. _She’s already there._

“Thank you.” Sayo didn’t like how it quivered more than she had intended. It seem passable though, as the owner replied with small smile and nothing more.

 _Minato Yukina_ —she recited the name as she treaded heavy steps to the said studio, which is only three doors away from the lobby. Sayo let her fingers lingered to the doorknob before she assured that she’s ready. Sayo could feel the guitar case on her back growing more and heavier. Her expression was one of the flattest face she could try to keep. Inside her heart, there was an ever-present fear – a fear that she might be exposed, a fear that she couldn’t keep up with her ‘special case’ anymore.

Sayo opened the door to hear the soft, melodious tone of someone's singing - the only singer's voice she ever let for herself to pause and indulge. As the wall is soundproof, if you’re making a small voice without the help of mic, it won’t be heard outside. The song stopped abruptly the moment said lilac-haired singer laid her eyes to the turquoise-haired guitarist, who’s seemingly stunned for some reason.

Yukina was taking her stance at the center of the room, leaving the unattended amps, unfolded keyboard stand, and unoccupied drum set behind her watching.

“… Determination Symphony?” Sayo took a guess.

“Ah, Sayo,” Yukina softly spoke. “And yeah, that. I just feel like singing that song, is there something wrong with it?”

Sayo mustered a head shake, “No, I’m only guessing.” The guitarist put down her guitar case. She then occupied the right space where Yukina was standing, donning her midnight blue guitar on. Feeling the weight is right not to strain her shoulder nor to hinder her area of reach, Sayo connected it to the amp and started with the tuning.

By then, she felt the pair of golden eyes watching. When their eyes met, her heart skipped. Sayo quickly drawn her eyes back to the guitar, feigning concentration. Yukina is someone she must blame of her condition, yet, it is never her fault to begin with.

“Do you remember when we first meet?”

The topic was so sudden, and it was unlike her to speak of anything in the past. Though she can pretend she’s occupied with the tuning, she replied barely, “What about it?”

“I’m saying my gratefulness,” that smile; that stretch of lips, warm, relaxed expression - it was enough to keep her concentration away from the guitar, back to her growing feelings that continued to bloom. “Thank you for being beside me, Sayo.”

“Why now?” another rhetorical response, although there, Sayo felt like she’s on her limit, _she was close to cough another batch of flowers_.

“I don’t know? I … sensed that we’re growing distances now, you and I.” her flick fly away from making a strum. The guitarist barely made an eye contact with the vocalist, but she could sense the worry in the sudden wording. Yukina has realized it – she knew that Sayo is deliberately making that distance. Her throat started to itch uncomfortably again, “So I would like to express my gratitude before it’s late.”

[ _But the one who knows whether it’s ‘late’ is only me_. ]

* * *

 

 

Sayo still remembered that instance when she fell; when she’s falling deep to the point of no return.

She recalled perfectly when she saw the back of a certain vocalist giving her all in singing, pouring her everything—power, feelings, existence—by the means to live in a single song. While as the guitarist who’s watching from the back, Sayo didn’t know what kind of expression Yukina made while singing that song. She mainly think back then that she should concentrate more on her playing and nothing else.

It was when Yukina reached to her; they happened to exchange looks during the stage climax. As if the whole banging sounds of instrument suddenly deafening, there Sayo witnessed one of the most beautiful, the most precious sight that she couldn’t peel her eyes away.

It was a different face of relief that she ever showed to Lisa.

It was a different sneer that she ever give to Ako.

It was—

 

_\--cough._

There, another batch of flower petals raining on the sink, clashing with torrent of water she turned in full to conceal her hacking cough.

As Sayo finished with her tuning, she excused herself out to the bathroom. She was close not to make it – she was about to show the person she loved that she’s suffering from it.

When first Sayo acknowledged there’s an illness born from one-sided love where you will get out flowers from your lungs, she surmised it as laughable. Then, after bearing it for quite some weeks to months, she would note the frequency of the cough happening. The flowers said to symbolize how the person would feel; it can be soft, it can be frail, it can be colorful, everything depends on how the person is feelings toward the subject of love.

It could always be removed with surgical procedure, they said, but the feelings of love would be gone with it. Sayo had opted to take that choice since it’s not going anywhere. There’s no way her love would be reciprocated as Yukina is not a type to show love.

She would cherish people, yes.

She would express her gratefulness, yes.

But no, she’s never fond of her – Sayo knew it much, because their connection is nothing but a professional one.

_If she ever having something close to love—it should be to her childhood friend instead of a new person like Sayo._

Ever since she planned to go on taking the surgery, Sayo would collect all the petals she spitted. Hina told her that there’s a way to preserve flower petals, and she told her younger twin that she’s doing it out of hobby. Sayo collected every petals to a bag, in which she would sink in glycerin for a day before putting it in a thin glass bottle filled with mineral oil, preserving it's existence eternally.

Even though her feelings would be gone soon; she would have the proof that it ever existed, for her to know that it’s wrong to sense the ‘love’.

_If, if only Yukina get the same illness as her—_

Sayo stopped when she’s about to finish her gathering with that thought. Her eyes traveled to see her own reflection by the mirror glaring at the wall. Today’s petals are purple, it’s Yukina’s favorite color, and there Sayo was, her expression was compacted with hollow, false hope that Yukina had ever experience love that’s directed to her, or to someone else so she would exhibit this same reaction.

“… It would be ugly, though, if she used the throat full of flowers to sing …” Sayo found herself murmuring.

_This ‘love’ will never find any place to return, so I will simply let it vanish._

 

* * *

 

The studio is silent again with the absence of Sayo who’s tuning her guitar earlier. Yukina was standing in her same position, though, she was no longer singing. Her right knuckle is balled, pulled up to her lips in an expression of thinking.

“Sayo surely takes long,” Yukina mumbled. “And everyone’s yet to come, too.”

The lilac-haired vocalist let the seconds tick by the wall clock trying to calm her nerves somewhat. There she mustered a deep, long sigh before she moved on, opting to set up her mic and planning to sing again.

.

Below her feet, the carpet was soiled with the petals of pale, smearing red she trampled upon with her shoes.

That red, however, is not from any flower’s natural color.


End file.
